Observation in a Hammock

Wrapped in a cocoon of rope, isolated from the mainstream of campus, I witness people pass on by. They're usually alone, or with another person, determined to make it to their destination; these people are oblivious to the beauty around them. These people are oblivious of this concrete oasis, characterized by the pool of light at the bottom of the stairs and the slabs of concrete sprouting up. A couple of trees displace the landscape, but are simultaneously intertwined with this environment. The trees sway with the hybrid man-made/natural breeze; it's as if they want to escape the floor.

This environment is restricting, yet seemingly expanding. The sky spews into, and out of, these concrete barriers. Two circles expose the pipes that compose this atrium, while giving the false sense of space. The pipes themselves guide the scattered students (ascending and descending) that inhabit this atrium –– pipes create an imaginary route; they become imaginary guides.

As I look up, the light bulbs on the "ceiling" form a curve, akin to a smile. The windows around me expose me, and I become vulnerable. Once the next person wants to inhabit this hammock I'm in, I'll be displaced like the people who walked by me.